Witching Hour: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 7
Page 11
When I returned to the kitchen, Raj was waiting to go outside. I let him out with the admonishment to stay in our yard, and then gathered my gear together. I had broken the skull I used in my portable magical kit, and would have to replace it. And that wasn’t easy. Human skulls—or rather, skulls of the magic-born—weren’t that easy to come by.
If I could just go dig up somebody’s grave it would be different, but the authorities frowned on that. While they couldn’t do a whole lot to me, I didn’t want to ruffle feathers amongst the Wild Hunt’s side of things. They not only dealt with the Fae Courts, but they also played liaison between the cops and certain members of the SubCult, and I knew if the cops complained to Morgana, she and Cernunnos would authorize them to come breathing down my neck.
In my ritual room, I poked through the cupboards until I found the last of my spare skulls. It was my last spare, beyond the one that always stayed on my altar. I’d broken one taking care of a nasty poltergeist a few months back, and now one getting rid of Morrison.
“Yeah, that’s one experiment I don’t plan on repeating,” I muttered as I packed the skull in my tote bag. “I’ll keep my fangirling over musicians who are alive.”
I added some fresh black and white tapers to the tote bag, a new red pillar candle, my cards, a copper wand that was a lot like the one in my ritual room, and my traveling dagger, Venom. Venom took the place of a ritual dagger when I was out, though I also carried a sharp-edged switchblade in case I needed to draw blood. It wouldn’t help matters any if I poisoned myself by using Venom to coax a few drops to the surface.
Carrying my tote bag, I returned to the dining room. Raj wanted in again, so I let him in. “While I’m gone, you be good, you hear? And don’t bother the—oh crap, I forgot to feed the ferrets.” I dashed back to their room and quickly added plenty of ferret food to their bowls.
“I’ll be back to clean out your cages in a while. If not tonight, then I promise, tomorrow. You guys be okay until then?”
Elise blinked at me and gave me a gentle nod. I stroked my fingers through her fur and then finally, headed for the front door.
“I’m leaving, Raj. You be good.”
“Raj be good.” The sound of the TV in the background told me he was watching some sort of cartoon.
I was just about to open the door when the doorbell rang.
“Cripes, who is it now,” I muttered under my breath before opening it.
Apollo was standing on my doorstep. The Golden Boy was one of my closer friends. He was also bound to Vixen, the owner of the Burlesque A Go-Go. They—Vixen was genderfluid—didn’t object to our friendship because they knew I wasn’t attracted to Apollo as anything except a friend.
He was bare chested and dressed in a pair of tight white jeans, wearing a massive fur coat that fell to his feet. His golden hair spilled down his shoulders, and his features were so delicate and symmetrical that all I could think was how beautiful he was. He was a dancer at Vixen’s club, and they kept him bound as a willing boytoy.
“Apollo, what are you doing here?” I stretched up to kiss him on both cheeks. He returned the air kiss, his long lashes fluttering gently.
“I was lonely. Domm Vixen is attending a convention, and they won’t be home till Monday. I was given permission to visit you and a couple other friends, so I thought I’d drop over for brunch. I brought bagels.” Apollo held up a bag. He, like Vixen, was one of the Ante-Fae. And they were both Exosan, like me.
“Lovely, duckie, but I’m about to head out. I’m exorcising a possessed doll this afternoon. But you can go with me—at least as far as the store. I don’t want to take you along on the job, though, because if something goes wrong, Vixen would have my head.” I held up my keys. “Want to ride with me?”
“Where’s the store?”
“It’s the apothecary in Redmond Town Square.”
“Oh, cheeky! That works. I need to buy some new bath products, and there’s a Bathworks near the shop. I’ll come with. I can call Vixen’s car to take me home.” He took my tote bag from my hand and slung it over his shoulder. He was well built and strong, and worked out on a daily basis. That much I knew.
We slipped into my car and I eased out of the driveway, glaring at my immediate neighbors, who were once again out on their lawn. This time they were putting up signboards announcing a Human Liberation Army meeting. I felt like stomping over there and ripping up the signs. Maybe it was time to have a bonfire in their front yard.
“Peachy neighbors you have,” Apollo said, grinning. “They really must love you.”
I snorted. “Oh, they love me, all right. I plan to have them out by the end of the month. I’ve been working on it.”
“Woman, you can be a scary-assed cunt when you want. If I weren’t bound to Vixen, I might consider tasting your honey.” He winked at me.
I blew him a kiss. “Be grateful you’re spoken for. You dunno what you’d be in for, Golden Boy. But you’re right, I can be a total freak when I choose to, and I’m fucking proud of it. So how’s life treating you?”
“Oh, same old, same old. Dancing at the club, and I’m taking classes now.” He blew a stray strand of his hair away from his eyes.
“Classes? What kind?” Apollo wasn’t just a pretty face. He had brains to match. He and Vixen made a good pair. Vixen might know how to run the club, but Apollo had a winning nature and inborn marketing instinct.
“Business management.” He laughed. “Vixen’s idea. They want me to become more of an integral part of the business, and I agreed.”
As I swung onto Old Redmond Road, I turned on the radio. Shriekback came blaring out, with their song “Wriggle and Drone.” “I think you’ll make a great manager.”
“Thanks. I think so, too. My father still can’t stomach that I’ve gotten myself involved in what he considers human enterprise, though he doesn’t say much. Nobody wants to cross Vixen.”
Vixen was far more powerful than most people would ever know. But among the Ante-Fae, they were known for the strength of their magic. Vixen was a Charmer, as well as a snake shapeshifter, a Taipan to be specific, making their bite among the most lethal on the planet. But Vixen could also deliver a similar jolt through their magic, making them respected and feared among all of the Ante-Fae.
“That’s wise. I wouldn’t cross Vixen, tell you that much. Luckily, I’m on their good side.” I laughed. “And luckily, I like Vixen. If I didn’t, I’d steer clear.” I wasn’t one for sucking up just to keep away from a fight, but facing a snake shifter Charmer? Not my idea of fun.
We pulled into a parking spot next to A Taste of Latte. I put the car in park and turned off the ignition. “We’re here, and I’ve got to move my butt, babe. I wish I had more time to stick around and chat, but I’ve got a date with a possessed toy.” I slipped out of the car as Apollo got out and held out my tote bag for me.
“Go get the ghosties, witch woman.” He air kissed me again, then sauntered down the street, his leather tie-up boots looking oddly in sync with the rest of his outfit. I watched him go, thinking that of all the friends I had, Apollo would always have my back.
Then, with a sigh, I turned back to the Sun & Moon Apothecary. Time to get down to business, as much as I dreaded facing the creepy doll.
Llewellyn and Jordan were waiting for me as I entered the shop. Llew locked the door behind me and turned the sign to closed.
“We really don’t want any strangers coming in here while you’re trying to exorcise that doll.” He blinked, peeking out the door. “Who were you with? I’ve never seen him.”
“That’s Apollo. One of the Ante-Fae. Some night, you guys have to go to the Burlesque A Go-Go with me.” I grinned. “It’s well worth the cover charge.”
Jordan shook his head. “I’m not one for nightclubs.”
“Then Llew can come with me.” I wrapped my arm around Llew’s. “I promise he’ll be good.”
“Oh no,” Llew said, laughing. “I promised Jordan I wouldn’t go to a club wi
thout him and knowing you, I’d end up in an Ante-Fae strip club.”
“Well, it’s not quite that but…” I paused, then reluctantly focused back on the subject at hand. “Okay, boys, lead me to the murder doll.”
A dark shadow passed across Jordan’s face and I realized what a gaffe I’d made. His aunt and his sister had been victims of the doll, and here I was making jokes about it. Feeling a little sick to my stomach, I covered my face, groaning.
“Sorry, that was so freaking insensitive of me. I totally didn’t think before I opened my mouth. I really am sorry.” I peeked through my fingers at Jordan.
He shrugged. “It’s all right. If you can get rid of this thing, I might even agree to go to that nightclub with you. Anything would be worth its destruction.” He looked around nervously. “Given my aunt’s house burned down when she was getting ready to sell it in a garage sale, should we be worried about something happening here?”
I frowned, biting my lip. “Well, I hadn’t planned on doing the exorcism here. Since we’ve locked it in an iron box, the doll’s energy field will be dampened, but I’m not going to even try to exorcise it here. There’s too much magical energy around. You guys wait downstairs. I’m bringing it down.”
Llew protested but I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to chance your life. I can handle a lot more damage than either one of you.” Even though Llew was magic-born and Jordan was a tiger shifter, I was more resilient than either one.
I headed up the stairs. As I approached the end of the hall, the energy began to grow thicker and I had the nasty feeling that the doll knew precisely what we were up to. Crap. That meant the trip would be dangerous.
As I entered the room, the iron box sat on a small table, still locked. I paused, sending out feelers as I tried to determine whether the doll was still in the box. Once in a while, murder dolls took it into their vacant little heads to go wandering around on their own.
The energy that hit me was definitely from Arawn’s realm—but Arawn’s realm gone awry. There was no natural order of death here, but the willful desire to destroy, the desire to maim and control, to possess and disassemble.
The energy was centered in the box, and as I watched, the lid shook, as though the doll was fighting to push it open from inside. I took a deep breath and set my bag of tricks down beside the box. I rummaged around in the bag until I found a pair of iron-safe gloves and slid them on. While the Ante-Fae could handle iron to a degree—better than our Fae descendants—it still interfered with us. I placed my hands on the lid of the box. It rattled even more and my stomach lurched.
If I was dealing with a spirit—with a ghost—I could call upon one of Arawn’s spells to calm the spirit until I could exorcise it. But this thing wasn’t a ghost. As I touched the top of the box, I knew what was inside that doll. An Underling. Demonic in origin, the Underlings were demons and devils who served Cythrawl, the god of chaos, whose very nature was destruction. Cythrawl wasn’t evil, not as a specific force, but many of his followers played within the tides of war, and they reveled in his energy that dissolved order.
I quickly pulled my hands away. Like Arawn, Cythrawl was one of the Primordials—the gods who drew their power from the core of elemental energies found across the universe. Death, Love, Hate, Chaos, Creation, Order—all of these were primordial forces that wove together to form the very fabric of the universe, and the gods born of their energy were truly immortal, as old as the universe itself. And the Underlings who served Cythrawl were exceptionally powerful.
Backing away, I tried to block out the Underling’s energy so I could think. It was oppressive, a heavy weight bearing down on my chest. I would need more than just a simple exorcism to take this on.
I left the room, cautiously descending the stairs, all too aware that the Underling might be able to extend its energy beyond the iron. As I entered the main room, I found Llew and Jordan poring over a series of sales records at the counter.
“Hate to interrupt you, boys, but I know what’s possessing your doll up there, and I think we’ll need to break out some of the big juju to take it on.” I quickly ran down what I had discovered.
“Holy crap. What do we do now? I’m not familiar with exorcising demons.” Llewellyn was looking more worried by the moment. Jordan just looked vaguely pissed.
“I’ve done it a few times, but I was right to think we shouldn’t take it on in the shop. It might escape and we don’t want it to jump any unsuspecting human passing by, especially one who happens to be psychically receptive and unguarded.” I thought for a moment. “Llew, we’ve got Uncrossing Water, but do you have any Throw-Down Water? And make sure it’s from a legit practitioner. We don’t want any tap water with a few drops of essential oil tossed in and a quick pass under the moon for a blessing.”
“I’ve got War Water, and I know the priest who made it. Powerful mojo man.”
“Then bring all you have. Also, every bit of sea salt you have in the store, and black peppercorns, tobacco, dragon’s blood, and sage.”
“I’ve got a lot of sage—” he started to say, but I held up my hands.
“Do as I say. Bring it all. Underlings are dangerous and we have to boot this one back to where it came from for good, or we risk it returning, pissed out of its mind.”
I instructed them to fill a box bigger than the iron one with sea salt, then stow everything else in the back of my car. After they were done, I cautiously brought down the iron case holding the doll, watching my step on the stairs.
The box shook in my hands—the Underling wanted out. I nestled it into the sea salt and drew a pentacle in flaming runes over the top, conjuring the fire to burn bright, which sealed the salt. Once I thought we were safe for the time being, I carried it to my car and locked it in the trunk. Then I opened the back door and duct-taped the seats to the sides, so they couldn’t be pushed open from inside the trunk in case creepy-doll somehow got out of the box.
“You two follow me. I don’t want you riding with me, not with the Underling trapped in my trunk. If anything happens, get the hell out of there and contact Ember, over at the Wild Hunt. Tell her exactly what happened, and tell her it’s an Underling.”
Llewellyn stared at me, his expression somber. “You don’t have to do this, Raven. This is our problem. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I shook my head, glancing from him to Jordan, then back again. “Underlings are malicious. You can’t take care of this creature, Llew. You simply aren’t strong enough, or ruthless enough. They can play on sympathy and they’ll use every trick in the book.” I slid in the driver’s seat, buckling my seat belt. “Remember, if anything happens—go to Ember, over at the Wild Hunt.”
“Got it.” Llew and Jordan headed back to their car.
I rolled up my window. Usually I played music when I drove, but with the Underling in the trunk, I wanted to hear everything. I made sure Venom was easily accessible in my boot sheath, and then, with a deep breath, started the car. Easing out into the street, I focused on driving. Underlings were good at controlling behavior and, while I was Ante-Fae, if the demon was particularly strong, it might be able to at least influence me. I didn’t want to run into anybody head-on, or into a tree, for that matter.
The quickest route to the abandoned lot I had in mind was to cut through Kirkland and over to Woodinville, but I decided to add ten minutes and take the long way around, through less-populated neighborhoods.
As I zigzagged my way through the suburbs, hopscotching through the streets, I became aware of a loud thump-thump-thump from the trunk. Damn it, it sounded like the demon was having a party back there. I suddenly found myself thinking, what if it had gotten out of the box? What if it found the way to push open the back seat? A brief rush of panic swelled up, but I caught hold of myself. I’d dealt with worse than this before. I glanced in the rearview mirror. The duct tape was holding. Nothing looked out of place. No sign that anything had broken through.
Forcing my attention to the r
oad, I pushed away the fear and turned right onto Redmond-Woodinville Road, then onto Village Road. I eased into one of the abandoned lots from a winery that had sold its land to TirNaNog. While the lot was technically on sovereign Fae land, it was used as an impromptu farmers market during the summer months. The ground was muddy thanks to the rain, but there were scant patches of grass scattered around. I wanted to do this in a place where we wouldn’t be bothered, where there wasn’t much traffic, and where—if I had to use fire—it wouldn’t catch any trees or houses aflame.
As I parked, the thumping from the trunk grew louder. If the Underling hadn’t escaped, then it was bouncing the box around. I waited until Llew and Jordan appeared. They parked next to me, and I opened the door and stepped out into the now-pouring rain.
“What do we need to do?” Llew asked.
“I wish neither one of you had to be part of this, but since the doll belongs to Jordan, there’s a connection that’s already been forged. I’m going to cast a Circle to keep the Underling from escaping—it might attempt to flee when it realizes what I’m doing. I’ll need you both in there. Jordan, to break the connection, and Llew, as support for Jordan.” I shaded my eyes from the rain. “Listen, Jordan, I need you to promise me something. Promise me on your life, because it may come to that.”
He sucked in a deep breath and the fear slipped over his face like a mask. “What?”
“Whatever I say, you do. Whatever I tell you, you obey. Whatever happens, you don’t act without my permission. I can blank out my thoughts, but you can’t and there are ways the Underling could play off of you.” I lowered my voice into what I called “Stern Teacher” mode. Ulstair had loved it, but that had been a different context altogether.